Addition

Addition\ Chapter One\ It all counts.\ Not long after the accident, I turned at the gate on my way to school one morning and looked back at the front stairs. There were only 10...normal-looking gray concrete, not like the 22 treacherous wooden steps at the back. The front stairs had a small set of lines and some gray sand set in the middle so you wouldn't slip in bad weather. Somehow it seemed wrong to have walked down them unawares. I felt bad about it. Ungrateful to those stairs that had borne my weight uncomplaining for all of my 8 years. I walked back to the stairs and climbed to the top. Then I started down again but this time I counted each one. There. 10.\ The day went on but I couldn't stop thinking about those 10 stairs. Not obsessing. Nothing that kept me from schoolwork or skipping or talking, but a gentle teasing like the way your tongue is drawn to a loose front tooth. On the way home it seemed natural to count my steps from the school gate, down the path, over the footpath, across the road, along the street at the bottom of the hill, across another road, up the hill and then into our yard: 2,827.\ A lot of steps for so short a distance, but I was smaller then. I'd like to do that walk again now that I'm 172 centimeters instead of 120, and I might one day. I can only remember lying in bed at the end of that first day, triumphant. I had measured the dimensions of my world, and I knew them, and now no one could change them.\ Unlike the weather in Melbourne. 36 degrees and sunny; 38 and the same; 36 and the same; 12 and raining so hard I risk concussion getting the mail. This January has been like that, so far. When I was a kid Icould hardly stand it. From the age of 8 I graphed each day's max and min from the newspapers, desperate for a pattern.\ In time, counting became the scaffolding of my life. What's the best way to stop nonchalantly, so as not to arouse suspicion should someone interrupt? It's okay to stop, it doesn't break the rules...the numbers are patient and will wait, provided you don't forget where you are up to or take an extra pace. But whatever you do, don't lose count or you'll have to start again. It's hard to stop the involuntary twitching, though.\ "Grace, why are your fingers moving like that?"\ "Like what?"\ Funny how I sensed this wasn't something to be discussed with other people, even when I was 8.\ The numbers were a secret that belonged only to me. Some kids didn't even know the length of the school or their house, much less the number of letters in their own name. I am a 19: Grace Lisa Vandenburg. Jill is a 20: Jill Stella Vandenburg, one more than me despite being three years younger. My mother is a 22: Marjorie Anne Vandenburg. My father was a 19 too: James Clay Vandenburg.\ 10s began to resonate. Why do things almost always end in zeros? Crossing a road was 30. From the front fence to the shop was 870. Was I subconsciously decimalizing my count? Did I stop at the shop's doormat, rather than the door, so it would end in a zero?\ Zeros. 10s. Fingers, toes. The way we name the numbers, in blocks. One day in math we learned rounding, changing a number to the nearest one divisible by 10. I asked Mrs. Doyle the word for moving a number to the nearest divisible by 7. She didn't know what I meant.\ Why are clocks so obviously wrong? Counting on a base of 60 is a pagan tendency. Why do people tolerate it?\ By the time I finished high school I knew about the digital system and its Hindu-Arabic history and the role of Fibonacci in gaining support for base 10 in 1202. There's still anger out there in cyberspace...flat-earthers upset that base 10 was chosen over base 12, which they consider purer: easy to halve and quarter, the number of the months and of the apostles. But to me it's about the fingers...it's the way the body's been designed. No debate.\ Realizing the world was driven by 10s was a beautiful turning point, like someone had given me the key. When tidying my room, I started picking up 10 things. 10 things an hour, 10 things a day. 10 brushes of my hair. 10 grapes from the bunch for a little lunch. 10 pages of my book to read before sleep.?10 peas to eat. 10 socks to fold. 10 minutes to shower. 10. Now I could see not just the dimensions of my world, but the size and shape of everything in it. Defined, clear and in its place.\ My Barbie Country Camper was out; my Cuisenaire rods were in. On the outside they don't look like much. Green plastic box; inside, bits of wood, cut and smoothed, in various sizes and colors. Invented by Georges Cuisenaire, my second-favorite inventor, while he was looking for a way to make math easier for children. I love them, especially the colors. Each rod has a number that corresponds to its length, and each number is a different color. For years into my adult life, numbers were also colors. White was 1. Red was 2. Light green was 3. Pink (a hot, sticky pink) was 4. Yellow was 5. Dark green was 6. Black was 7. Brown was 8. Blue was 9. Orange (although I'd always thought of it as tan, a small vowel shift) was 10.\ Addition. Copyright © by Toni Jordan. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

\ People Magazine"[A] spunky debut…Addition is witty fun…Number of times I laughed out loud: 23"(3 ½ out of 4 Stars)\ \ \ \ \ Emily Giffin"A delight of a debut novel. Toni Jordan has created an unforgettable heroine, charming, vulnerable and real."\ \ \ Marisa de los Santos"In her insistence on holding fast to the parts of herself she likes best, Grace challenges concepts of illness and health, brokenness and wholeness. I love her for this, and for the way she aches, bristles, back talks, and shines her way toward an off-kilter equilibrium, a ramshackle splendor."\ \ \ \ \ Imogen Stubbs"Grace is a quirky, funny and endearing character. Very entertaining."\ \ \ \ \ Sunday Mail Queensland"Jordan strikes a fabulous blow for resolute individuality, with redemptive love in a supporting role."\ \ \ \ \ Minneapolis Star Tribune"Jordan’s book is not just about a woman with OCD. It is, of course, also about fitting in, about accepting ourselves and our loved ones as they are, about coping, compromise and conformity. The writing is witty and quick."\ \ \ \ \ People“[A] spunky debut…Addition is witty fun…Number of times I laughed out loud: 23”(3 ½ out of 4 Stars)\ \ \ \ \ USA Today"How will Grace Lisa handle change? The messiness of falling in love? One thing is sure. You can count on an amusing few hours with this debut novel."\ \ \ \ \ The Times (London)"(An) engaging romantic comedy."\ \ \ \ \ Boston Globe"Grace Lisa Vandenburg’s self-described ‘counting thing’ goes far beyond a charming quirk. Often funny, always lovable, this endearing novel of obsessive compulsive disorder and romance is outstanding." (Pick of the Week)\ \ \ \ \ Sydney Morning Herald"Toni Jordan has created such a real character in Grace that you are cheering her on. . . . Jordan’s voice is distinctive and refreshing."\ \ \ \ \ Weekend Australian"Sparky, gutsy and snappy."\ \ \ \ \ Buffalo News"The turns this tale takes, by its final few pages, leave you breathless. Once you begin the story inside, this love story that’s unlike any you’ve read before, you’ll be turning pages long after you should’ve called lights out."\ \ \ \ \ Irish Times"Toni Jordan’s debut is mature, witty and entertaining."\ \ \ \ \ Wisconsin State Journal"A poignant love story with a truly original heroine."\ \ \ \ \ Fort Worth Star-Telegram"Count on a good read from a fresh voice."\ \ \ \ \ Reading.com.au"Told with great warmth and humor, Jordan has created a strong female character that needs to confront her demons, accept them and move on. This is a love story without the frills. An enjoyable read all the way through."\ \ \ \ \ Daily Mail (London)"An unusual and intriguing novel."\ \ \ \ \ Publishers WeeklyGrace Lisa Vandenburg, the narrator of this pleasant neurotic-girl-meets-boy debut, is 35 years old and has been addicted to counting since she was eight. She lives alone in Melbourne, Australia, and is on sick leave from her teaching job, filling her weeks with counting-"steps and syllables and bites and things"-and sticking to her rigid routines, which include trips to the cafe and phone calls from her mother and self-absorbed younger sister. The only person in her life Grace relates to is her 10-year-old niece, Hilary, who is as quirky and charming as Grace is. Things are fine until Grace meets Seamus Joseph O'Reilly, an Irish transplant who works at the local movie theater. Grace has not been on a date in two years and six months and hasn't been in love in forever, but as things progress with Seamus, she realizes what she has been missing. With some gentle encouragement, Grace agrees to test her boundaries and tries to find a happy medium between her obsession and living a full life. The novel does everything a sweet, agreeable romantic comedy should. (Feb.)\ Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.\ \ \ \ \ Library JournalGrace Lisa Vandenburg's love of numbers defines her world-and limits it. Unable to hold down a job, Grace lives an ordered and solitary life. Her only deviations from counting are her fantasies about Nikola Tesla, mathematician and inventor of the Tesla Coil. But when she meets Seamus Joseph O'Reilly, the ensuing romance inspires Grace to seek treatment for her obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Unfortunately, as therapy and medications help to diminish her need for numbers, they also begin to erode her very being. This well-crafted debut explores the assumption that sufferers of OCD need to be cured. Australian writer Jordan gets you into Grace's head in an intimate and compelling way and presents the disorder with irreverent humor and poignancy. Those who enjoyed Steve Martin's The Pleasure of My Company may be interested in this portrayal of OCD from a woman's perspective. Highly recommended for all popular fiction collections.\ —Anika Fajardo\ \ \ \ \ \ Kirkus ReviewsA witty heroine with a crippling case of obsessive-compulsive disorder is at the center of this gemlike debut-think The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time thrown into the world of chick-lit. Grace Vandenburg, 35, lives in a highly organized flat in Melbourne, Australia. Her morning routine goes something like this: While showering, each limb is scrubbed ten times; hair is dried with 100 strokes under the blow dryer; and teeth require 160 strokes with the toothbrush. Grace owns ten pairs of pants and ten skirts. She no longer drives because she can't take her eyes off the speedometer, and there is a complicated algorithm dictating the number of bites she takes at each meal. Her life is ruled by the reassuring order of numbers, but her compulsions prevent her from forming attachments to others. That is until she meets Seamus at the grocery store (when at the checkout she discovers she has an impossible nine bananas, she steals one from his cart). A sexy, gentle man, attracted to Grace's considerable charm, Seamus is perplexed by her mysterious behavior (and the framed photograph of Tesla on her nightstand), but the sexual chemistry is enough to keep the questions at bay. When Grace comes clean, Seamus convinces her that she deserves a happy life. Soon she is traveling down the usual road to recovery: meds and therapy. Grace stops counting, but she also stops enjoying life, gains weight and could care less about sex. Whereas at one point every moment of her day was busy, now weeks go by offering little but a change in the TV schedule. This romantic comedy weighs the value of a normal life against the hidden potential in a life of dysfunction. At the book's close, it's up to Seamusto accept Grace for who she is. A smartly written comedy that cheekily suggests recovery may not be for everyone. Agent: Kim Witherspoon, David Forrer/Inkwell Management\ \